


On Tenterhooks

by OpheliaOfCamelot



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Basically expect anything, Blunt language, F/F, F/M, Gen, Georgian Period, I am wasting a story that can me exploited for smut in drama, Inspired by Harlots, M/M, Omegaverse, Prostitute AU in which they both are, Public Hand Jobs, Random Plot Twists, Why Did I Write This?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-12
Updated: 2018-12-20
Packaged: 2019-06-26 12:14:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 14
Words: 14,271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15663027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OpheliaOfCamelot/pseuds/OpheliaOfCamelot
Summary: London 1744Arthur has been the kept courtesan of Francis Bonnefoy for years now. Alfred is new in town, just recently brought from the colonies by his new 'masters'. In theory they do the same job, only differences lay the circumstances leading up to their employment and the outlook on life.Also, courtesan = fancy prostitute.Many side plots though.





	1. 1744

**Author's Note:**

> I did play around with ages also, just for the sake of plot, here is basic information for the most relevant characters. 
> 
> ♤ Arthur is 20 and a beta (I did consider him being an omega but that's too predictable).  
> ♤ Alfred is 18 and an alpha.  
> ♤ Francis is 30 and an alpha.  
> ♤ Alastair (Scotland) is 30 and an alpha.  
> ♤ Antonio and Joao (Portugal) are both 40 and alphas.  
> ♤ Peter (Sealand) is 10 and an omega (he's Alastair's son, not another little brother, I'll explain).

I'm back after the longest, with a new story that popped into my mind in the form of an idea at midnight. I didn't intend it to be omegaverse at first, but I'm letting it be only for the sake of normalizing malexmale relationships during this time period. Now, I'm an honest person, this is INSPIRED by this new series I've been binge watching, Harlots. Not an adaptation, but I will be adopting some concepts or ideas. Warning for explicit language and explicit themes to be discussed in the future, you're getting into a series about prostitution, you know what you're in for.

Also please, PLEASE, keep in mind I don't condone or support strong themes written here, I don't want to get shit. It's only for the sake of fiction. Another sorry for the tacky format, I wrote everything on my phone, after this chapter they will be longer.  
\-----------------------------

 

London 1744

1 out of 5 omegas make a living selling sex. Every tavern, every corner, outside every townhouse you could get a nice shag for only a few shillings. It wasn't a shock as much as it was startling when a young woman crossed Arthur's path. She had a lovely face and beautiful grey eyes to match. He frowned upon a more detailed glance however, she couldn't be older than 15. 

"For 5 shillings you can fuck me in the alley up ahead, for 8 I won't be picky about which hole you use," before he had a chance to decline she clung to his arm, taking a small sniff. " I am skilled with my mouth and fingers too, if you are in for the typical." Arthur handed her 20 shillings, but merely pulled his arm away and continued walking. He considered for a brief moment that could have been him if he hadn't lucked out.

In theory he was no better and no worse than her, only wrapped in silk and gold. ' That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet', or as vile he figured. Even if he were to wed Francis this very moment, that would not errase a near decade of being a harlot. Even if the other said it was a matter of legality, that they were basically common law spouses. It would never be enough to warp reality into something to satisfy his consciousness. 

"Your brother is just like Sporus*, I will take him." 

It had been so many years now since that day, perhaps it's just best to start at the beginning.


	2. Foundation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I realize last chapter a bit confusing so I really want to start out with the story right away, I can probably pull out of my ass another chapter later on today. Midnight Pacific time or something, just to describe the time period that we will be working with for the rest of the story. Ah.
> 
> * Consumption- Old term for tuberculosis  
> * Culls - Clients?  
> * Cunny - slang for vagina, sort of like pussy.  
> * Keeper - A keeper was just someone who had a kept mistress (like a side chick), they paid an annual sum on top of having the woman live in one of their estates and support them from head to toe.  
> * Sporus: He was a young boy who emperor Nero was married to until his suicide.

Arthur's mother had turned to prostitution when her husband had fallen ill and passed away. She had three mouths to feed and very little job opportunities that provided the necessary. The Brit doesn't remember a time when it wasn't like that, he had been born out of a prevention fail when she was waist deep into the business. In fact after him she had decided she was done with attending culls herself, with her savings she had bought a house and began filling it with people. He wouldn't say omegas because he was certain not all of them were, it was a success nonetheless. Waking up to moaning and walking into blowjobs was the norm for him.

"You won't have a life like this." She said, he just didn't imagine what his alternative would be. Arthur was 10 when she had died of consumption*, Alastair as expected took over her business. Only the business, young as he was instead of tenderness he received a pat on the back as sole comfort. None of his brothers had ever been kind to him but the situation only worsened once they were alone. He was kept intact for two more years and at 12 his virginity had been sold to the highest bidder, bidders. A pair of brothers with peculiar accents, a slight tan and matching noses. He could have made a list of many other things that matched once he had a closer look.

If you tried to ignore their sick fetish with deflowering young lads and lasses they weren't at all horrible people. Arthur found in the weekend spent at their estate more comfort than in the two years since his mother had died. He was offered three meals a day and a maid assigned to tend to his every need, they didn't rush him for a second nor were demanding when it came to doing the deed. He had heard God awful stories about first times involving a lot of blood and culls wanting to go in dry, so the kind treatment had been a pleasant surprise. His so called luck had begun there. Arthur was returned home with new clothes, shoes and a gold pocket watch as tip for the "exhilarating days".

He tended no more than 10 more culls before Francis Bonnefoy walked into his life. Maybe quite literally, one day he just entered the brothel unexpectedly. Apparently he and Alastair knew each other from childhood but had gone over a decade without any sort of contact. Francis and his parents were rich folks, recently returned from their homeland and settling for London. He didn't bother asking Alastair or Francis why, he didn't care. Everything had happened so quick he hardly could make sense of the events before his life took the biggest turn yet. 

"So now you're a pimp, hm? Who would have thought." 

"Aye. Take any bitch you like, it's on the house... As a welcoming gift that is, don't get the wrong idea that you'll always be getting free cunny just because you're my friend." 

A very French laugh followed, Arthur wasn't sure how to describe it as anything other than French. It had caught his attention for the peculiar of it's sound. When he turned his face away from the piano's keys he met a pair of blue eyes. Alike the ocean on a sunny day, those that weren't common in England, but it reminded him of a family vacation to a beach in Sussex when he was 5. He had almost drowned, and that abrupt memory unsettled him. Suddenly those eyes didn't seem all that lovely anymore, so he blinked and continued playing.

"How about the one on the piano?"

"Ah, that's my brother."

"Oh, your ma spat out yet another kid? Should have known, those eyebrows..." 

"He doesn't go for anything less than 30 pounds. I'm mostly trying to get him a keeper though. Lad needs to leave the nest, God knows he's old enough."

"Almost sure God has little to do in this matter. Always loving Alastair, how gratifying it must be for him to know at the very least he has a brother that will not sell him short."

Arthur seemed absorbed in the piece he was playing, but found himself listening to every word. For now there was silence, but previously a price had been put on him opening his legs. It never bothered him as much getting the job done as it did that his brother never asked him if that was what he wanted. He just assumed Arthur was to heed to every command that came from his mouth. It was short of depressing to remember being told he wouldn't have a life like that. Yet here he was, suddenly Francis continued the conversation. 

"I don't want a free putain. I'll give you 60 pounds to have him for the night."

"Done. Oi, Arthur, here boy."

Arthur walked over, rolling his eyes briefly. He debated inwardly between voicing his thoughts or not, before they just left his mouth through gritted teeth. "I'm tired of reminding you I'm not your dog." Even the omegas in the house got overall more respect, they would be summoned with their names and some over the top adjective, or even a nickname. He got a 'here boy'.

The Scotsman tried his best to smile, very poorly while at it and pinched his arm as he pretended to rub it. "You get the master room with Francis here tonight, be complacent, he's a special guest." Arthur turned to Francis, scanning him from head to toe, unsure what to make of him. If he hadn't previously heard him talk, he could have passed off for another rich, British cull, as was the usual for the place. Arthur forced himself to soften his expression, in a sense Francis wasn't doing anything out of the common in a brothel and the absolute arse here was Alastair. So he reached out and offered the Parisian his hand, leading him down the hall to the best room in the house. 

"Right this way, sir."

It was awkward that for the first few hours Francis only wanted to drink wine and talk. Arthur found it a little unsettling and hardly knew how to react, he had never been a really social person to begin with, and it didn't help the situation. He didn't like alcohol either, so he stuck to a single glass that he didn't even finish until Francis in a drunken state began kissing him. Everything was easier from there, just follow the routine. 

When he woke up in the morning much to his surprise he didn't have bruises from being held too hard or any sore muscle, but a couple hickies. He briefly remembered how Francis had really big taste to his neck and thighs the night before. Speak of the devil, it was odd to turn and not have the Frenchman there. Alastair didn't usually allow him to sleep in like this even when he landed a good cull the night before. Something smelt fishy, he could only guess perhaps Francis had paid another night. When he heard voices and footsteps outside his door, it seemed the two were walking down the hall as their voices came and went.

"Your brother is just like Sporus, I will take him."

"Wait, you? His keeper? Are you sure?"

"Oui! Sil vous plait, he will be well cared for, I promise."

Fast forward to the present, it had already been eight years.


	3. La Vie En Rose

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Introducing Arthur's annoying keeper, Francis Bonnefoy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * Flat: apartment  
> * Mon biche: my dear  
> * Ma puce: my flea, it's an endearment term but I'm not sure why xD  
> * Mon chou: literally translated as "my cabbage" but I believe the metaphorical and correct translation is "my only one".

Arthur walked into his home, it was a two story flat in the middle of Saint James street. Yes, the place was actually his, Francis had gifted him with it for his 15th birthday, he had the ownership papers and everything. For what counts, the Parisian wasn't an awful keeper. With time, as Arthur made his way out of his shell, they found a comfortable point of company in the other. It wasn't perfect, but Arthur figured it was better than fucking strangers in alleys. 

"Where have you been, mon biche?"

Biche, not bitch. It had taken him an entire year before he found out by learning the language that Francis was actually calling him a deer and not degrading him. Not that knowing stopped the odd glances when he was addressed by it in public. 

"I was visiting Peter, my love."

"Ah, how is that child doing? Growing strong, I trust."

"You could say that. Peter found out he is an omega when he went into heat this morning. One of Alastair's girls ran down to fetch me as all my brothers were afraid to get near him and he was asking for someone from the family. Poor thing was a crying mess from his discomfort when I got there."

Francis chuckled, "¿And you went over to leave him worse off?" Arthur gave him a long look as he took his seat. "I adore the faith you have in me."

"Well, you don't exactly have the best tact, ma puce."

"Says the man who calls his beloved a flea, makes me miss when you'd call me a cabbage."

Francis chuckled again, "I've already explained 'mon chou' doesn't literally mean cabbage", the Parisian leaned back in his seat and sighed. "Arthur, there is a serious matter I want to talk to you about and I pray you will listen intently this once." 

The Brit tensed, he knew what this was about. Successfully having avoided the subject since Francis' parents death, but now there was no escape. Marriage. Something that should seal and secure his future, but only served to give him an uneasy feeling. "I'm all ears, mon cabbage."

"Arthur, I'm not getting any younger, and with my parents' death more stress was put upon the subject. I must marry and produce an heir soon-"

"Exactly why I told you it would be a terrible idea idea for you to consider me. I'm a beta, I will never be able to give you children."

"We don't know that yet."

"Francis, I'm 20. If I were an omega I would have started having heats a long time ago."

"There are late bloomers..."

"Not THIS late, at 16 or 17 you are a late bloomer, not twenty year olds."

"You just don't want to marry me, do you?"

"I am looking out for your best interests. I can marry you, and then what? When I am your age and nothing has happened yet? When we are senile and there's no children to pass your fortune to because you chose a barren husband?"

Francis ran a hand through his hair, at clear conflict because despite his wishes, he knew the Brit only spoke the truth. It was a while before he broke the silence, later he would wish he hadn't. 

"I would never be at peace with myself if I married anyone that wasn't you. You are the one I love with every inch of my being and soul... What of your nephew?"

Arthur was so confused he actually straightened in his seat on the couch, while furrowing his brow. "What of Peter?"

"Well.. he's an option."

"... You want to marry Peter?"

"Non, oh Dieu, non!"

"Then backtrack and explain in detail, for I am afraid I am not following."

The Frenchman cautiously walked over and kneeled on the floor in front of Arthur, taking the other's hands in his own. "What you told me when you had just arrived, that he... Please consider it. Except for the eyes he's a living portrait of you when you were younger. We would be free to marry, he could carry our children and the problem would be solved."

".. Are you serious about this?"

"Oui! Whenever he conceives we can take him and hide off in my estate in Calais. That way no one has to see you for nine months and question when the pregnancy happ-" He was cut off with a punch, he could swear he felt blood stream down his nose but he was too afraid to check. Arthur had pulled his hands away and looked at him with uttermost anger.

"What kind of pile of shit do you have for a brain? Are you listening to yourself? Peter is a child."

"I don't mind waiting a few years until he is ready."

"He's a bloody child, for Pete's sake! I don't care how obsessed you are with me, he is especially my nephew. He will not be dragged into this world. Do you understand?"

"But he wouldn't have to, I will provide for him for the rest of his life in gratitude."

"Get out, I don't want to see you."

"I bought you this house."

"Fine, then I'll go."

"Where of?"

"Doesn't matter, a gutter would be better than here in this moment."

"Arthur!"

"What?"

".. If you will not be my husband I have no problem reminding you you are my whore. I've already paid Alastair your annual fare." Before Francis was done talking, there was a slam of the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uhh, this chapter wasn't at all what I expected when I began writing, but I think it served it's purpose of introducing Francis as a character, and his dynamic with Arthur. He will be an antagonist but I am aiming for round personalities that are not just black and white, if you totally hate him that's fine too. 
> 
> I want to apologize for this being more dialogue than it is writing, but it was necessary. Next will have more focus on inner thoughts than words, I think. By next chapter I can also introduce Alfred if my creative muse cooperates. Hopefully I get it out within a few hours as well.


	4. Old Acquaintances

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Delivered what I promised albeit a few days late. Sorry it wasn't much, I'm already working on the next chapter that hopefully won't be as introductory as these past few have. Alfred will be more himself in what follows, promise.

Once Arthur stepped foot outside he cursed his luck. Of course, he had been so angry he didn't bother to glance out the window, it was raining heavily. He was sure a little water wasn't the end of the world however, on the other hand going back inside might actually be, so he began walking. There was a decent inn about a mile away, where he had stayed last time he punched and walked out of Francis. Now that he thought back on it, it was a little pathetic how much the Parisian would put up with, only to beg him to come back every time. Only a few steps down the road, a carriage stopped right next to him and spontaneously opened it's door.

"Por Deus, Arthur!"

His heart leaped with joy at that voice, he hadn't heard it since the last Christmas party, that was 6 months ago now. Arthur stopped and turned with a smile, a genuine smile. "Fancy meeting you here, my Lord," when he saw Joao, he noticed Antonio was by his side. "Lords."

Joao chuckled, "Fancy, sim, that's the term I was looking for.. What are you doing out here in the rain? You're soaked and seem to be walking away from home rather than towards it."

"Afternoon walk maybe? Rain is as natural to me as drinking tea." It was a blatant lie, but he didn't feel like discussing what had caused his outburst. It only took Antonio, who was more observant than his brother, a few seconds to figure it out. "Deserted Francis again, did you?" He motioned Arthur to take the empty seat in front of them both if so he wished. The Brit nodded sheepishly and climbed in- Oh. He almost sat on someone he hadn't noticed, it had probably just been their silence. Arthur proceeded to find his way around and sat next to him. 

Antonio continued the conversation, after laughing. "He will not bite- unless you command him to." The fellow had golden blonde hair, fair skin and broad shoulders, he only wished he could take a glance at his eyes but the other was staring down in silence. "Who is he?" Arthur just blurted, rude as it may be with the subject of matter sitting there. By the way he sat so still maybe the Iberians didn't allow him to speak without permission. It was then when he did just that, turned to look at Arthur and smiled, "The name's Alfred, I'm a.. nephew." 

Ah, he understood. 

By God, those eyes were such a lovely shade of blue he never wanted to look away. But he knew he had to, "Oh, sorry about not asking directly. I thought.." Joao interrumped him half sentence, "We're not those sort of people, Arthur, you know better."

"He was just so still and quiet, like a corpse."

"You mean I didn't acknowledge your presence when you climbed in?" Alfred laughed a bit, "Sorry Mister, I was actually half asleep. I'm new, and it's never calm when you're a first timer."

He undeniably understood that all too well. "I see," there was something that made him curious, that scent. Could he be?.. "Where did you three meet? I can swear that accent is not from around here." The question was directed at any of the three, now the conversation had expanded. Antonio was eager to continue it on, Joao was more concerned with the weather as he looked out the window in dismay.

"Sorry to interrupt, Arthur, would you like to come home with us?"

Glad as he was to have met them, he thought twice on it. Both had the stamina of wild stallions, he wasn't sure he was all that willing to be on his back as soon as he stepped foot into their mansion. Once again, Antonio seemed to notice his dilemma. 

"You'd be our guest, we already have amusement elsewhere" he said with a wink, he noticed Alfred winked back, but his expression was lost as soon as the Iberian wasn't staring at him. Joao continued, "It won't be for too long anyway, take it as a vacation. Probably before the week comes to an end, Francis will have his little guard dog trying to tear down our door in his search for you."

That much was true, he figured. "Oh, very well."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're wondering, yeah Arthur has a little bit of a crush on Joao. Sort of a "You were my first time" thing, but that will fade away soon enough


	5. A melhor defesa é o ataque.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The title means "the best defense is a good offense". You'll see what I mean xD
> 
> Oh, and the maid is Monaco, I suck at OC's. So there, carry on.

Arthur woke up the next morning with knocking at his door, "Mister Kirkland".

He groaned, having gotten used to sleeping in as mornings tended to be calm back home. The Brit dragged himself out of bed and toward the door, barely minding to cover his dick. As his clothing was drenched in water last night he had undressed and went to sleep like that. Outside was a maid; blonde, blue eyes, a red bow and glasses. Oh, he began to see a pattern here... 

"I bring you a clean set of clothes, breakfast should be ready as soon as the page boy retrieves some eggs." He nodded to her explanations, still half asleep, and took everything from her arms, clothing and towel. She seemed to blush for a moment, and he finally snapped awake when he noticed why, moving his hands down again and proceeding to slam the door shut on her. He wasn't sure why but women always brought out some sort of decency within him he thought long gone. 

Arthur wrapped the towel around his waist and stepped into the hallway, a storm couldn't be considered a full bath, and he was certainly aching for one. Now, if he could only remember where the loo was, he knew it was here in the second floor so that his chances by half. Still leaving 7 rooms open for possibility, bollocks. 

The house was relatively quiet, so he figured the others were either out or asleep. Thus, he began opening doors one by one, quietly as he didn't want to bother just in case there was someone resting. The first two were empty guest rooms, they looked exactly like the one he stayed in. The third was full of towels and linen, an exaggerated number of them. The fourth seemed to be some sort of office, it had a desk full of papers, amongst wooden drawers and a couple chairs situated around. The fifth he realized was Joao's, the man laid sleeping peacefully, he was almost adorable. Arthur stopped to stare at a moment before the other turned, he wasn't sure if he was waking or not but closed the door immediately. The sixth only made him wish he would have gone downstairs to ask the maid. When he peaked inside he saw Antonio in bed on his hands and knees as Alfred mounted him.

"Shit."

Alfred opened his eyes and looked around for the intrusion, while Arthur half in a state of panic walked away as quickly as he could. Leaving the door slightly open as he locked himself in the last room, at last he had found it. Not sure the end justified the means, that was way more than he had hoped to see. Regardless, he bathed, returned to his room and dressed. When he walked back into the hallway he could practically taste the breakfast either being or already made downstairs, he would lie if he said he wasn't half starving. Before taking the staircase down out of curiosity, he checked the time on his pocket watch. 

"I see you've kept it after all these years."

Arthur was slightly startled, but he smiled when he looked up at the other. "It reminds me of you, it's a token of instant happiness for me." 

"I don't know where you're going with this, but do go on." Came the automatic response that he had heard so many times. He knew it was a self defense mechanism, he knew of Joao's troubling past with his ex wife, yet it never failed to slightly tick him off. He walked over to the taller man and wrapped his arms around his neck, inching closer in order to be face to face "Modesty will get you nowhere with me, sir. Why won't you ever accept my love?"

"Can harlots love?" Arthur's face fell as he pulled away. Right, harlot, it wasn't a lie that he was so. It still sent a painful pang through his chest to hear it from the other. Joao struggled to find what to say, but he quickly knew he had made a mistake. "Wait- I didn't.. I didn't mean to offend you."

Arthur crossed his arms as he leaned against the wall, "It's quite alright, by all means you're not wrong. I'll stop bothering you and try to find another rich keeper elsewhere." For whatever reason the taller man seemed hurt, like he actually believed it, but before anything else could be said Antonio and Alfred came walking down the hall together.

"Hey, no bothering Arthur on his stay here, your promised." Antonio said, pointing his finger at his brother, Joao nor Arthur said a single word, they only walked downstairs in silence. Leaving a very confused duo to try to figure out the issue. 

Breakfast was tense, most of the talking was done by Alfred and Antonio, who tried without much success to brighten up the gloomy atmosphere. One talked recent juicy gossip from the other aristocrats of London, the other about how his grandmother had told him that the Salem Witch Hunts were more petty people taking revenge than God's will being done. They were good stories, but none that successfully cut the growing tension. The best news came in the form of an urgent letter brought by the maid, who Arthur had just found out was named Evelynne. 

Apparently Joao and Antonio's mother was gravely ill and requested their presence in case she were to meet her demise. The letter had been written 3 weeks back, so less than ever did they have time to wait. The two decided to set sail back home the very day, for obvious reasons they would not take Alfred with them. It was decided they would only write letters to the boy if necessary and he was to wait for them in their residence. 

"My pet is all yours if you get bored, okay Arthur? Just make sure he is washed and groomed by the time I get back, if you're still here that is. Remember, this is your house, stay as long as you want." Antonio casually mentioned as he was heading out the door, causing Joao to forcefully yank him out and down the front stairs.

"Tío, ¡¿cuál es el problema?!"

Arthur thought he could hear them arguing as they got into the carriage, but couldn't quite make out what was being said. He sighed as the atmosphere thinned, and tensed again when Alfred spanked him.

"Oi! What was that for?"

The other chuckled, "Now we're even."

Arthur stared in disbelief, "For what?"

"I don't give free shows."

The Brit furrowed his brow for a second, confused, until the other refreshed his memory. 

"I know you were watching. "

Shit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this relationship drama wasn't too boring djdn. This will be the last PortEng you'll have to put with, I am 90% sure, you know Joao fucked up xD
> 
> Anyway, UsUk starts out next chapter. Thanks so much for the kudos and comments ❤❤❤ Looking out for more.


	6. Fragment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I would have uploaded this last night except I've been trying to figure out the heck to put as title xD I over think everything. 
> 
> Also aaaaaaaaa. Tonight is the reason finale for Harlots (What inspired this fic) and I'm crying because I don't know what I will do with my life if it isn't renewed. Or if it leaves me on a bad cliffhanger #Pray4Ophelia

Arthur scoffed as he took a seat, "A glance does not equal a touch, not to mention that this morning was AN ACCIDENT. I was looking for the loo."

"The what?"

"The loo."

"Huh?"

"... The restroom."

"Ah." Alfred sat crossed legged across from him on the floor, but slowly inched in until he rested his forearms on the other's thighs. "Whatever you say, do you want me to pay you for touching your ass? I don't have money, but we can probably find a way to compromise. Right?"

Arthur stared down at him, looking unimpressed. "I know you're new, but acting like a whore doesn't go a long way around here."

"It got me across the Atlantic."

The Brit looked like he wanted to strangle him, because in a sense that was actually a good point and he just didn't want to admit it. "Well, yes, but seriously. If you ever go anywhere public with Antonio you might want to behave more or at least keep everything under the table.. literally. If you feel like you must."

Alfred laughed, and let himself fall back, now laying on the carpet. "That won't be a problem, I wouldn't touch him if it was up to me."

"Oh, I was beginning to get the idea you liked him."

"Pffft, no way. I mean, he's nice and all I guess, but if it wasn't because of what I owe him I wouldn't sleep with him. It's super uncomfortable to suck him off, alpha dicks get all big and swollen and gross, don't get me started on the one time he actually knotted in my mouth, I swear I almost choked.." Alfred at one point wasn't even explaining himself, but ranting, so he stopped as he realized so and looked over at Arthur. Who seemed much more amused than he should for a disgusting sex gone wrong story. "Haha, but you probably didn't want to know that, sorry."

The Brit chuckled and shrugged, "I didn't need the mental image, but I know he has a bad habit of doing that."

The colonist raised an eyebrow, "Do you? How?"

"Because I fucked him and his brother an entire weekend when I was twelve."

Well, that was blunt. Alfred actually seemed shocked but tried to assimilate it as fast as he could and move on. "... Oh."

"Yeah."

"By... by will, right?" The Brit could heard slight nervousness in the other's voice and he struggled to figure out why. It took him a moment to realize perhaps there were many parts of his life he had just normalized, that weren't in the slightest bit typical. 

"Yes." 

"Is that how you met them?"

Arthur nodded, "My brother is a pimp, around that time he wanted to move to a new house in a better neighborhood to get richer culls for his employees, and he thought it was a good way to make money quick. They were... kind, and we've had constant contact ever since, they've been more family than my own."

The confident act had dropped entirely, Alfred had sat and was listening intently with a clearly uncomfortable look on his face. When the other was done he wasn't sure whether he should tell him he was sorry or congratulate him on growing the relationship past that one time. It was a difficult decision when social correctness was nonexistent before closed doors and he didn't have the high ground to talk about the moral aspect. Arthur on the other hand noticed the awkward silence, and patted his head. "My apologies, I thought you had a stronger stomach than this. Why don't you tell me how you met them?"

"Ah.. it's not.. really a happy story either." The colonist rubbed his neck, unsure whether he could confide in this stranger the entire story. "I killed a man back in Virginia and was sentenced to hanging in punishment. I don't know what Antonio was doing there, but he says it interested him that the night before I was praying instead of crying hysterically as all others." When Alfred looked up, Arthur was the one surprised now. "He asked me why I had done it, and then paid the warden a pretty penny on my head. He said I could travel with him to England and service him, and when I was done paying my debt I could go. I would have said no.. but I have a younger brother and I want to see what kind of man be becomes."

The Brit was almost afraid to ask what had happened, the two brothers, especially Antonio, were Catholics to the core. It seemed odd either would support manslaughter, so there must have been a good reason. Still.. the man before him had blood on his hands and it was impossible to not be at least slightly thrown off. He nodded at a lack of words, "What was the reason?" There went his mouth at it again, running on it's own.

"Sorry, I don't feel comfortable telling you." 

"You're right, I shouldn't have asked, it's your personal life.."

He was already on his feet by that moment, reading himself for spending the afternoon staring at the ceiling. "No, it's not that. I just don't think you'd see the way things came down as a reason good enough to be condoned. Greetings, My Lord." Arthur seemed confused, but Alfred only briefly nodded his head at him before heading up the staircase. However small the conversation was, it changed a lot. Acting wanton was about to get much much difficult for Alfred, he didn't think he could see his employer the same way again after what he knew now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well that was short, my bad. I'm trying to get back to uploading a chapter daily for the sake of not losing my way with this fic. Someone previously had asked me for a chapter to describe a little more the setting. So I'll try to do that for next :')


	7. My thing is my own

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to describe the setting as requested and I think I only started family drama that won't be relevant until halfway through the story. Good going, Ophelia. At least I introduced a few more characters.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I took liberties with the names because I can.
> 
> ☆ Riveiro is Joao and Antonio's surname, since they're supposed to be twins, it was a pretty middle ground between the cultures.  
> ☆ Andrei is Romania  
> ☆ Germany's last name is Schmidt because it's less complicated to write lol.  
> ☆ Caterina is nyo Italy, since she doesn't have an official name.  
> * Ah, Amalie von Wallmoden was the current king's head mistress.
> 
>  
> 
> I wanted to get one more chapter out today because as I explained earlier- tonight is Harlot's season finale and I'm here chewing on my nails. I know I'm going to spend tomorrow crying :) So I'll probably update on Thursday. Or who knows- but to be safe here is two updates today.

Arthur sat in silence for a few minutes after Alfred left, but decided against making a grand deal of the situation. It wasn't as though he'd have to live with the man for too long, remaining here when Joao and Antonio returned wasn't an option. Especially after earlier's conversation. Perhaps he just needed some fresh air to decide what he would do as he waited. So he headed to and out the door, only to find a tall man with a stern expression and crossed arms already standing there. Well, that had been quick.

"You really are a dog, aren't you? Your spying works better than a hound's nose." The Brit only made that quick comment before continuing down his path, and the man followed quick behind. "Lord Francis wants you to come back."

"And I want him to stop being such a fucking twat, our desires will not always be met in this life, Mister Schmidt."

The expression on the German hardened, if possible. "I cannot go back unless I bring you along." Arthur rolled his eyes, "My word is worth more than his, he never means his threats. Go tell him that I want him to come to the Riveiro's door and apologize like a gentleman before I even consider returning to his side." His human shadow didn't falter however, and continued following him in silence down the entire God damned street. 

The day was typical, powdered faces and wigs everywhere, a few that he knew as a matter of fact. They would wave at him and he'd wave back with a half smile. Omegas would pay sedan chairs to avoid staining their ridiculously expensive shoes. Alphas would stand in exclusive circles and smoke their lungs away. Betas were mostly the ones doing work, the middle class of society; they were house servants, the carriers for sedan chairs, the ones who'd write the morning paper, entertainers at opera houses. It pained him to realize out of all the choices he had this was how he had ended. Certainly whoring for aristocrats paid a lot more than any of those jobs combined, but he could only wonder if he really needed endless wealth. Was the cost worth it?

"Split me, if it isn't Arthur Kirkland!"

He was startled, but it only took him a second to recognize that voice. When Arthur turned, he saw a redhead heading his way with a paper bag in his hands. "Andrei," The Romanian smiled and embraced him, "It's been ages, are you so comfortable sleeping in jewel encrusted bedsheets that you've forgotten about us?"

"But I was here only yesterday."

"Da, but I was with a cull! Missed you entirely for some filthy masochistic dog." Andrei explained and Arthur laughed, "You get paid for mistreating culls, don't dare bloody complain."

Andrei was a couple years older than him, but still young enough to have begun a friendship back when Arthur lived under Alastair's roof. He, Lukas and Peter were all he missed, and his reasons to continue visiting sporadically. As far as he knew, Andrei was a beta as well, born to Romanian parents but had never wanted to further talk about his past. Alastair one day just arrived with him and it was all he knew. His speciality was flagellation, it often boggled Arthur's mind that anyone would pay for getting whipped and cursed at. There had to be some sort of appeal to it, but he failed to yet find it within all these years.

"Who's the fella'? He doesn't look like Francis at all."

"He's making sure no one touches his master's expensive goods."

"Ah, so you have a bodyguard of your own. By God, you must be the wealthiest courtesan in London after Amalie von Wallmoden."

Arthur rolled his eyes again, "Should I be bursting with joy?"

"Of course! What's wrong with you?" He didn't feel like responding, maybe for once his blasted brother did something well in his life. As he was standing by the entrance as they approached the brothel. "Andrei, what took you so long with those bloody condoms? You've an entire line in there waiting."

"You're kidding right? I've been at it since early morning."

"'s Friday, you know business goes up over the weekend."

"Ugh, those bastards. Fine.. suppose we'll talk sometime else Arthur, see ya." As soon as Andrei was inside, Alastair's unwanted attention in the form of a glare turned to him. "Where's Francis?"

"Always a joy to see you too, brother."

"I'm not joking with ya, where is he?"

"Probably home pouting and drinking his woes away like the manchild he is."

The redhead rubbed his temples in annoyance, "Stop antagonizing him, he could afford three submissive omegas for what he pays for you. One day he'll tire."

"If you're done talking I'm here to see Peter, I didn't come for a sermon." Perhaps he had been after that goal for so long, but it seemed the more he pushed the more Francis pulled. No matter the amount of insults and ignoring, he always came back like a sorry pup. Confident in that, Arthur made his way in, pushing past the taller Kirkland and heading in the direction of his nephew's room. 

It wasn't difficult to distinguish the only room from where moans and grunts weren't being emitted. He poked his head in first to test the situation, and noticed Peter just laying on his bed face down, still. Then slowly he made his way over and sat down, running his fingers through the young boy's hair. There was a quick response as Peter jumped awake, with his face flushed and sweaty. Arthur gave him a small smile and continued gently stroking his hair, "It's just me, lad. How are you holding up?" The boy moved closer, to lay his head on his uncle's lap and closed his eyes again. "I feel hot." Arthur nodded, "That's normal." A few minutes went on, Peter was trying to either sleep or breathe normally, Arthur couldn't help but feel sorry for him. Why couldn't puberty wait just a few more years? Ten was an awfully young age for anyone to undergo this.

"What is losing your virginity like?"

For a second Arthur had belived Peter to be asleep, so the question hit like an a bucket of cold water. "That's something you're too young to know. What sparked your curiosity?"

"Earlier pa was talking to uncle Aidan about taking sealed bids for mine."

"What?" Arthur struggled to not storm out and demand answers that very instant but he could feel his blood boil. Peter shifted and pressed his face to Arthur's stomach, "I don't want to do it, please tell me pa won't make me." He could only try to not sound so angry as he did his best attempt at a comforting answer, "He won't, it's likely you misheard him, don't worry." Peter nodded and drifted back to sleep within the next ten minutes. Arthur waited twenty more and began tapping his arm, just making sure the boy wouldn't wake if he left. Then he went quietly out the door, and began stomping his way over to his elder brother, who was sitting and sipping tea with Ludwig. Who had invited that dog in anyway?

"Hey, shiteface. We need to talk."

"You can bet your sorry arse we do." 

Alastair walked over and forcefully grabbed him by the arm, pulling him to the side. "Mister Schmidt told me Francis proposed and you turned him down, again. You stupid whore, why would you do that?" It wasn't a surprise that he knew, but the outburst had been uncalled for. 

"Because I value my freedom, if I become his husband I will be owned like property." The Scotsman's grip tightened, "And that is exactly what you need, unless you're an alpha, this world weights and respecs you as property. How do you not understand that yet?"

"This world, or you?" It wasn't a rhetoric question, he wanted an answer. "Don't be stupid, Arthur. You're my brother and that's why I didn't want you working for me here from morning to dawn. I wanted a better life for you, mum wanted a better life for you. Francis has you living like a duke, what more do you want?"

"I'm certain this wasn't her idea of a better life."

"Can you think of a better choice? Would you like to be a stable boy, a hard laborer that earns a few shillings a day? Money makes the world go round and you can pretend to deny it all you want, but you aren't entirely stupid, you know I'm right." Arthur pulled his arm away, at loss of words for a second, he remembered this wasn't the topic of conversation he originally had in mind. "Whatever, I am not here to talk about me. What is this I heard of you wanting to make money with Peter's bachelorhead?" 

The stern look on Alastair's face disappeared, "How did you hear about that?"

"... So it's true."

"Not right away, I wanted to wait until he was more of age."

"Oh dear God, have you absolutely no scrupulous at all? He's your SON."

"A hymen is a feeble little thing that can be popped from even horse riding, it's meaningless. I will not profit from it either, the money raised from it will be for his dowry once he has marriage prospects."

Arthur's mouth hung open, he needed a moment to get himself together. So he turned so his back for a few minutes, and swallowed hard. "You're not thinking about what this experience might do on him."

"On the contrary, I'm preparing him for the harsh world out there. I can't keep him concealed and then throw him into an unknown and cruel reality."

"Say I buy your excuse for a second, just what prospects do you suppose you'll have for him?"

"In earnest, I had hoped once you married Francis you would help me with that. But as always, can't rely on family, can I?"

"This.. this has nothing to do with me. If you need money I can shag with every aristocrat in London, I'll go back to Francis, but don't dare have anyone touch him."

"That is not for you to decide."

He didn't think he had ever been so appalled in his life, but he absolutely had enough. "Mister Schmidt, we're leaving." Ludwig was already halfway up the staircase with Caterina, a brunette, Italian beauty that had little under a year of employment. He seemed embarrassed at being caught as he blushed and began to descend. "Luddy, you just got here. Amore, stay longer!" The man shook his head and kissed her hand, which left her pouting but she released his arm nonetheless. 

Huh. Arthur didn't know Mister Schmidt was a regular client here, until now. Suppose all sorts of people have needs. Regardless, he didn't dwell on it for too long and walked out the door, with the German behind him. It was an awkward way back to the Riveiro estate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heck, this was longer than expected.
> 
> I don't know if I'll ever get around to explaining this. Since this is Arthur's story, but the background on Peter is that- when Britannia opened the brothel first, Alastair had a romance with an omega there who he got pregnant, but they died in childbirth (a very common thing in those times). The baby was mostly shoved at Arthur since everyone else was so busy, hence why they are so fond of each other now. I'm using this bond for stuff in the plot later on so- yeah. 
> 
> Thanks so much to Claire who just commented today again, I don't know if she was my first reader but she was my first commenter. Comments make me happy ♡


	8. Breakfast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Have another small chapter, it was meant to be longer but I decided to cut it in half, because the following (which will focus entirely on having UsUk closure) deserves individuality.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ☆ Mister Van Dijken is Netherlands.
> 
> I'm still crying over Harlot's finale, IT WAS SO GOOD. It also allowed me to plot more for the progression of this story. I AM INSPIRED, DAMN IT. I'm already writing the next chapter and I hope I can have it out today, maybe tomorrow morning.

The following morning Arthur woke with sore shoulders, he knew he had gone asleep tense but didn't realize how much until that very moment. It wasn't anything new though, he'd been sore before in much worse places. The cook had gone all out, as he had been given instructions to treat the 'guests' as masters of the house in the Ribeiro's absence. The Brit invited him and Evelynne to dine with them at the table, to which they cautiously and gratefully accepted. Alfred was smiling casually, like yesterday's conversation wasn't a thing. He had even sparked casual talk with the other two.

"The London Evening Post yesterday said King George has a secret child with his mistress."

"Does he? Lady Amalie's prevention finally failed?"

Arthur sat in silence, Alastair had reminded him a thousand times how something alike had been his conception. Except his father could be any drunk bum in London and not the King of England. He was certain someone was about to ask him if something was the matter when there was a knock at the door. Saved by the bell. Evelynne left her seat to go answer, and returned saying it was for 'Lord Kirkland'. He half expected Francis to be there, of course he wasn't, but Mister Ludwig still was. Did he actually stand outside all night long? Well damn. There was another man though, yet one more tall blond, Mister Van Dijken, another of Francis' servants. 

"Can I help you, sir?"

"I was entrusted to deliver two things from Lord Bonnefoy." The man handed a small chest, maybe the size of a closed fist. When Arthur opened it, a bright red apple laid inside, the Brit raised an eyebrow and stared at the man. "He says you are the apple of his eye."

Oh my fucking God, how corny was that? Just when he was about to make sure Mister Van Dijken returned to his master with a new hat, he was presented with the second box. A bit weary, he opened it regardless, a golden ring with a blue stone, it wasn't the engagement ring he had seen before. Perhaps just a sorry present, wealth didn't account for insults and his nephew's dignity though. He closed the box and handed it back.

"If Mister Schmidt truly won't leave my side then perhaps you'd do well a messenger. Tell Francis that he must come here in person, I want a heartfelt apology. Else he can find himself another to obsess over." Arthur closed the door on both men and sighed.

"I would have taken it if I were you, looked expensive." Came a voice from behind, the Brit jumped slightly. "Money isn't everything." Alfred leaned against the door, "I don't know about that, if money can buy life, doesn't that make it everything?" Arthur looked down, "Not for me, I won't sell out.. at least not my mind or word." 

The taller man smiled, "You're something else, aren't you? If all empowered people had your steel-hard morals the world would be different." The Brit wasn't sure how to respond, it had likely been the first compliment he ever received that didn't have to do with his looks or bed skills. He wasn't sure why it made his face flush up, so he nodded and muttered a small 'thank you' before returning to the table to finish breakfast.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another shout out to Lunar_Iris, thanks for being a constant reader and commenter ♡


	9. Augusto's List of Covent Garden Walking Dalliances

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Remember when I said I would be cutting this chapter in half? I'm cutting it in three parts. I've been writting all day and I'm only halfway done with Alfred and Arthur's outing. My creative muse has not slapped me, it PUNCHED ME IN THE FACE 
> 
> Consider this a filler chapter, but it might be interesting if you want to get to know new characters.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ☆ Isabella de Aragon - She's nyo Spain, not at all related to Antonio though. She's inspired by Emily Lacey from Harlots sort of. 
> 
> ☆ Erzebet Héderváry - Obviously she's Hungary, with a corrected first name to fit typical Hungarian.
> 
> ☆ Lena von Ingelheim - Nyo Austria, I don't want to have her be related to Austria because I might or might not use him in the future.
> 
> ♧ The book is a blatant "On Tenerhooks" AU version of Harris's List of Covent Garden Ladies. Which listed and rated prostitutes, as well as sometimes gave away their bad habits. Inspireception, but the show I'm being inspired by, is inspired by this book. Also, "Augusto", yep, the author is Rome.

A few hours passed, both the cook and maid returned to their duties, Arthur sat in the living room. He had found this year's edition of Augusto's List of Covent Garden Walking Dalliances laying around, he decided to read up a bit out of curiosity. An entire section right after the introduction was dedicated to his brother's house interestingly enough. It didn't go in alphabetical order, perhaps just by the writer's preference. 

* Miss Isabel de Aragon - A woman only comparable to the very own Venus, native to the Kingdom of Castile but blessing London with her presence. If you are looking for one of earth's special wonders, search no further. She has unlocked the secrets of reaching Nirvana in between her thighs, I present and recommend the Duchess of Quim.

* Miss Erzebet Héderváry - Second best girl in her house, another fiery, brunette beauty who devotes every second of her paid time to the satisfaction of her client. If fellation is your preference, there is no comparison in any other corner of this grand city. 

* Miss Lena von Ingelheim - If you've always wondered what bedding royalty would be like, here is your chance. Illegitimate daughter to the current Holy Roman Emperor, found herself in monetary troubles with her mother's sudden death and father's declining health. She is appealing and complacent, but don't doubt she will have you kissing her feet before touching you with an ungloved hand. 

Arthur paused his reading, wondering if Alastair had tipped the writer into making up Lena's story or if there was any truth to it. She was relatively new and always had an air of superiority around the others, except maybe Erzebet, thus he had never bothered to indulge into her past. The Brit moved past and skimmed a few more names, somehow relieved to not find himself listed. How wrong he was though. As he skipped to near the end there was a page dedicated to "high maintenance company", and certainly, next to the all famous Amalie there he was. 

* Arthur Kirtland - A delight to anyone who has the grace to set eyes on him. The wet dream of many, but a fruit that only a chosen few have been able to sink their teeth into. Granted, even those who have, decide to keep their experiences a secret. His doting keeper, Francis Bonnefoy is always seen parading a besotted smile through life. Seems all those pounds a year must certainly pay their worth.

Enough for the day, he closed the book and began rubbing his temples. Usually anyone back at the brothel would be joyful with such a review, but it exasperated him. He shouldn't have expected anything less from such reading though, he only tossed it behind himself, but it seems it hit something, someone. "Ow, hey! What was that for?" When he turned he saw Alfred, dressed at the door and the book at his feet. "Forgive me, it wasn't intentional, I didn't see you there." The colonist laughed as he picked it up, "It's okay, so what's this? Is it supposed to be softcore porn?... Oh wait, I've heard about this! Whoa." Arthur rolled his eyes, the other seemed amused with so little, "So where did you think you were going?" Alfred stopped flipping through the pages, "Out for a drink, where else? I'm not going to stay in when I have nothing to do. Want to come?" Arthur thought about it for a second, although he had freedom, when was the last time he had gone anywhere for his own enjoyment? Even the parties he always attended he was forced to cling to Francis' arm for appearances. So he quickly nodded, fortunately he was already dressed, and followed Alfred out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for stalling, I'm really enjoying myself writing this. I PROMISE, for sure next chapter is the good one. Hopefully I can have it out by tomorrow morning.


	10. King's Tavern

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alfred and Arthur finally reach the so awaited tavern, but will it only be a few drinks or does mischief await?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll tell you lot a secret, when I began considering writing this story it was because I had this scene in mind. 9 chapters leading up to this, but don't worry, we're not even half done. 
> 
> ☆ Willem is Luxembourg.  
> * Tavern is just basically a bar.  
> * The 'French pox' was an old term for syphilis.
> 
> I want to apologize if I have a misconception of Cheapside, I'm guiding myself by Harlots and a little bit of research.

Oh dear God, Mister Ludwig was still there, with disheveled hair and bags under his eyes, but certainly standing. "What is the meaning of this?" Arthur demanded, the man eyed the American suspiciously before opening his mouth "I've explained before sir, now please end my suffering and return with me." Alfred was laughing, the Brit looked annoyed beyond words, "No. Now stay here or I'll have you arrested for harassment. Start walking, Alfred." The young man complied, looking behind every couple seconds, a few feet away but the man had began following them. How creepy. 

"Wait though, where to? I still don't know my way around honestly, I considered asking for directions."

Arthur tapped his cheek, considering his words before voicing them. What was the worse that could happen? "Ever heard of Cheapside?" The younger man shook his head, "It's the commercial side of London, plus 5 shilling whores and men falling drunk at taverns." At that Alfred raised an eyebrow, "You want to go to a place like that?" The Brit nodded and leaned in to whisper, "I have a friend who can get us unlimited drinks for a steady price. I'm guessing you probably don't have much money on you." The other smiled sheepishly, agreeing without another word, and proceeded to allow the Brit to navigate them through the city. 

The further they got, the more he thought he saw Arthur's description of Cheapside being accurate. There was a good bunch of people selling goods at decent price. Mostly though he saw men and women lining up on walls, omegas in the majority, ready to open their legs to whomever paid. They were dressed interestingly, in bright colors and patterns that directly clashed with his and Arthur's solids. He felt someone grab at his crotch as he walked by, but didn't falter in following the Brit. "Not all, but many of the people who fuck in the streets have the French pox, in case you.. well, if you're interested in hiring for that I can show you a safe house by this neighborhood after we leave the tavern." Alfred thought of responding, but he could hardly hear Arthur over the noise and didn't feel like yelling back. He took a few more glances to the scenery and certainly, some looked to be in terminal stage even. From those that looked nowhere near decent, a few were coughing on the floor, with sores on their faces. A young man about his age spanked him as he walked by, he was disturbingly thin and pale, "Handsome, I'll suck you off for a roast chicken." Alfred paused and grabbed at Arthur's hand as to not lose him between the sea of people, only to hand the man a few shillings for food and continued walking. He had a disturbed expression on his face, the Brit squeezed his hand, "Coming here feels like a slap to the face from reality, doesn't it?" The colonist nodded, but refrained from talking again. 

Finally they arrived to a place that read 'King's Tavern' outside, so they were here. He realized he still hadn't let go off the other's hand, and did so with an apology. Arthur smiled and shook his head, but headed straight for the bar where a blond greeted him. "Greetings Arthur, haven't seen you in a while, and you've got good company." The man winked at Alfred, to which he could only smile awkwardly. "Alfred this is Willem, an old friend of mine. Willem, this is Alfred, a recently made friend." Willem seemed skeptical, "Friend?" Arthur glared, "Yes, friend. He's not my cull." The man chuckled, "Certainly, you still reek of Francis' stench." The Brit looked annoyed as he handed over a few pounds, "Yes, don't remind me. Get me the usual, and whatever he wants on me." 

Alfred tried to argue against it and hand some guineas himself, "No, no, please. This isn't why I wanted you to come with me, I have money." Arthur took the young man's hand in his own and closed it into a fist, "It's okay, allow me, save your coins for something else." The colonist made a face but accepted, "Alright, thanks, a glass of whiskey please.. So how do you know Willem?" The man himself had already began serving their drinks, but was by all means still there, "I used to work for Arthur's brother until I got with child, when I didn't want to get rid of her he told me he couldn't continue employing me. But was kind enough to loan me something for a new beginning and said I could pay him back when I had the money. So I bought this place, as of now I'm almost debt free." Alfred nodded to the story as he took a sip from his glass, "He sounds.. like a nice person." 

Arthur had began drinking half a minute before and was done with his mug of ale by now, "Yes, to everyone who isn't blood family he is. Another one, Will." The American tried to drink slowly, his original idea had been looking fancy as he consumed his alcohol, not actually taking in until it slurred his speech. The Brit certainly seemed way more into it for someone of his rank, but Alfred didn't comment on that.

10 mugs of ale and 5 of whiskey later, music had began playing somewhere, as he looked around it actually came from everywhere. There were half drunk people playing instruments around the room, some others had began humming in a failed attempt in making a harmonious chorus. He began realising where all those awful comments hating on England's 'sinful' life came from, certainly most of the people from his colony would have a stroke if they were situated here. Alfred himself would have were he as young and innocent as before everything happened, not before his murder, further back, before-

"Did you leave anyone in Virginia, Alfred?"

The Brit seemed to have finally put his mug down for a second, Alfred shrugged, "Only my brother and parents. The depressing thing is that they're probably convinced I'm dead, and it's not like my parents would want it any other way anyway." Arthur frowned and put his hand on the colonist's shoulder, "Why would you say that? They are your parents even if you killed someone." Alfred put his hand over the Brit's mouth, "Shhhh. Don't go around spilling my secrets like soup. But, well, it's part of both law and their religion, a life for a life, sinners must be punished." Arthur removed the hand, "Did they not sin too when you and your brother were procreated?" The colonist laughed, "Eww, don't make me think of that please. But to answer your question, no, sex is viewed as a means of reproduction, not enjoyment. So according to puritan beliefs, so long as you weren't doing anything other than penetration for making babies, it wasn't a sin."

Arthur finished his mug and set it down, "How boring." The colonist chuckled, "Are you going to deny that you who gets paid to have sex for enjoyment isn't totally bored? If that infamous Francis was good at fucking you'd have already returned to him." The Brit huffed, "That's not it, last I saw him he asked me to marry him and have my little nephew bear our children... my little nephew who is ten. So I told him to go finger himself and left." Somehow it didn't phase him as it should, he could remember at least two other events that had a stronger effect. "That explains a lot," It didn't take away that it was something wrong, he didn't know Francis and he disliked him already. "Yeah,"

Alfred chugged down his next cup, having stopped caring about tonight's outcome after the third glass. "Do you want to dance?" Arthur looked like he was one mug away from having trouble standing but it was still time, "I don't think I know this dance." The colonist laughed, "Neither do I, but come on. I got you if you lose your balance." He pulled on the Brit's arm until he gave in. It wasn't by any means something difficult, just moving from one side to the other, twirling every now and then. At first the Brit seemed uncertain, holding tightly to Alfred's arms or hands when he had the chance. After half a minute he had gotten the hang of it though and it was much easier. He only tried to avoid twirling too much as it unsettled his stomach, and he wasn't exactly interested in throwing up his breakfast. 

The number ended in him almost slipping, Alfred had caught him just in time. "Maybe you've had too much to drink to be dancing, sorry" The younger man lifted him into his arms and settled him back at the bar, slightly stumbling himself as the stronger alcohol was taking it's toll. "I don't know if you noticed but your keeper's friend followed us," Arthur looked around quickly, "I don't see him." Alfred nodded with his head at a corner of the bar, where Ludwig sat with a beer mug in his hand, "Oh." The younger man laughed as he finished the half empty glass of whiskey he had abandoned earlier, "That is some high level guarding there. Francis must really love you or something."

Arthur argued briefly with Willem over whether he should have more to drink or not, with the other man giving up and handing a new mug. "I'd say 'or something', he's obsessed, it's unnerving at times." Alfred was nodding, staring into his new glass of whiskey, wondering if he truly wanted to take another drink. When the entire bar was disturbed by a woman, who climbed onto a table and began stripping, leaving a cup at her feet for coins. When she took off her top, drunken men everywhere cheered, and he suddenly realized Arthur had left his side, he was stumbling over to leave her a couple shillings. Alfred laughed when he saw the Brit walk back, swaying from one side to the other. "Do you like redheads?" Arthur shrugged, "Just seemed fair, she isn't undressing for enjoyment but to eat today." The colonist took a small sip, "Seems fun though."

"Does it?"

"Yeah, why not? Having everyone's eyes on you as they cheer."

"10 pounds that you wouldn't do it."

"60 pounds that I would." Arthur looked at Alfred skeptically, "Do you even have 60 pounds on yourself?" The American grinned, "Even better, I lack self consciousness." 

The woman took off with someone as soon as the current piece being played ended, picking up her discarded clothing in a rush and walking out with someone. As soon as the music began again, Alfred jumped onto the table. He decided to begin with a small dance and not too long into it, half drunken squaling omegas surrounded him. Arthur was laughing and blushing at the same time, he felt whatever embarrassed Alfred did not. He couldn't believe the other had actually done it. At a weird and uncomfortable second his eyes met that of Mister Schmidt whom he realised was beyond exhausted and annoyed at this point. The Brit intended to send an apologetic smile to the other side of the room, but as he heard screams he looked back to the center of commotion. Alfred had send his shirt flying somewhere, omegas fighting over the discarded piece of clothing. Perhaps last time he hadn't noticed correctly but dear God, muscles marked every inch of this man's body just right. He didn't think he had lusted for anyone this hard until now. 

Alfred had began undoing his breeches, the Brit was certain the shirt had been the stop sign. Of course he was proven wrong. The colonist allowed a woman to roll those down as well, and he was left in his cotton underpants. Their eyes met for a moment as Alfred briefly showed off his backside and winked right at him. Arthur smiled but proceeded to shake his head, and looked away. "One more ale, Will." The man looked very little amused, "Do you intent on having your handsome companion carry you home? Knowing you that's the only way to avoid sleeping in here." The Brit slammed his hand on the table, "That's my problem, I want another one." He heard a small 'suit yourself' before having his mug refilled. 

"Where's my 10 pounds?" From one moment to the other Alfred was back at his side, Arthur blinked slowly as he reached into his pocket. "Didn't think you'd go through with it." He was distracted for a second as he stared at the young man, he was dressed for the most part but had his vest on by itself, probably having been unable to find his shirt again. "Like what you see?" Arthur shamelessly reached out to feel the other's chest and lower abdomen, "Very." The colonist caressed the other's cheek gently, "For a kiss you can keep your money." Arthur acted as though it had been a demand, for he leaned in within seconds for the kiss. Awkward as it was for the two to find a balance between touching each other and not falling off their stools in their intoxication, it was equally satisfying. Leaving them both short of breathless once they pulled away. 

They could only stare into each other's eyes. The situation had potential to escalate, if it wasn't because Arthur moved away suddenly to throw up to the side. On someone even, he thought he could hear complaining but his vision blurred out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See that abrupt cut at the end? That's me avoiding a weird sex scene with vomit in it. Plus I didn't want to be too typical, they've only known each other for a few days (like 2 and a half?). I assume they're physically attracted one to the other but I want their first time to be different.
> 
> So this was delightfully long, and I enjoyed every minute of it. I feel I could have drawn it out longer even. This is a 2×1 deal, not only I finally got in a solid UsUk moment but I was able to describe the setting a little bit more as I had previously been trying to.


	11. Wrong assumptions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A brief conversation the morning after, Alfred and Arthur realise they had misconceptions about each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another filler chapter, but it was just too cute for me. Imagining them in that position for no reason, having casual conversation.

When Arthur awoke the next morning he felt himself heavy, too much. It only took a second to figure out why, Alfred was laid on top of him dead asleep. Fortunately they were both dressed and with a blanket over themselves, so he could assume nothing regrettable had taken place. Evelynne was staring down at him, "Are you well, my Lord?" He didn't answer right away as he continued looking around some more. It appeared he was had wound up sleeping on a couch in the living room from the Ribeiro estate. Oh, alright, at least he somehow made it back. "Who let that German mutt in here?" Priorities, he had also noted Mister Schmidt was asleep on a couch on the other side of the room. The woman smiled nervously, "Poor man was about to pass out, I felt for him." The Brit sighed, somehow gently though, trying not to make much noise and startle awake the other. "I won't speak against it only because I lack the energy to," without giving it much though he wrapped his arms around Alfred's shoulders and went back to sleep.

A couple (many) hours later he felt some movement and shook awake, clinging harder to whatever the hell he was already. That thing (not a thing at all) laughed, "Didn't know you were a cuddler." The Brit's cheek heated up as he let go, "Hey, I wasn't actually complaining, that was the best sleep I've had in ages. You looked really peaceful, didn't want to wake you, sorry for sneezing." 

It made the Englishman do a double take, an involuntary comparison. Cuddling with Francis tended to be full of cigar smoke and French sweet nothings with strange literal translations that didn't feel half honest. Of course always right after sex, which made the situations entirely different. Why was he even putting them on the same page? "I ought to have been up hours ago I'm sure, if anything I thank you." Alfred laughed, "Actually you _were_ up hours ago, that was what woke me. Went away on its own though." Arthur looked unamused, and red, again, so Alfred continued "Jeez, for a harlot you're so bashful about certain subjects." 

"Francis became my keeper when I was very young, I can count on my hands how many I've slept with." The colonist seemed surprised, "Oh. Really? I thought.. Hm. So the average aristocrat sleeps with more people in a week than you have in your life. That's new." Arthur rolled his eyes, "How about you? For how shameless you are I take it you've been around." Alfred shook his head, "Antonio has been my second." The Brit seemed surprised, "You're bluffing."

"I'm serious." 

"How have you managed to lose shame in things then?"

Alfred laid his head down, "Things happened back in Virginia, shame for me came from not wanting to embarrass my parents, anger God or disrespect myself. But I was forced to do all of those so at this point, what gives?"

"Are you referring to what you told me?"

"No, before that."

Evelynne had been standing at the door, unsure of when it was okay to barge in to declare breakfast-lunch ready. She took their moments of silence as a chance, "Excuse me, but if any of you are hungry, I have made late breakfast."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to bring back the frog soon, it's been almost 10 chapters without his stupid ass around. 
> 
> Also #Pray4Ludwig, man finally got some sleep.


	12. No fighting before breakfast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Francis visits the Ribeiro estate to try to personally apologize to Arthur as was requested but he doesn't get very far, also, Alfred is not so nice before getting any food in his stomach.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was supposed to be a much more serious chapter, but last minute I had a change of heart. It's not that I hate France, he's just easy to pick on.

When Arthur walked downstairs for breakfast the following morning he paused halfway. That scent.. oh dear God, no. He wasn't ready. He went back up the staircase and eavesdropped on what he could. Francis was taking with Ludwig, most certainly the German had already spilled everything about the day before. He could only wonder if he had seen the kiss, unless it was a fabricated memory he remembered it well. More than anything because he had initiated it. 

"Why are you hiding?" Arthur jumped, the other really had to stop doing that, he smacked his arm. "Hush now, Francis is downstairs and I really don't want to see him." Alfred tried to peek but was unable to see as the living room was a few feet away from the stairs. "Do you want me to tell him for you?" The Brit quickly shook his head, "He probably won't go, I'm just trying to mentally prepare." The younger man sighed, "Should you really be with a guy you literally hide from? Why don't you get another keeper you like better?" 

"It's not that easy, we have an annual contract that I have to follow." Alfred patted his head, "Sounds complicated, well, let me go on ahead then, I'm starving." The colonist continued on his way, walking painfully slow as he tried to get a good glance at the Frenchman. He had his hair wrapped in a silk ribbon, a strand hanging loose on each side, needless to say he was dressed impeccably. His clothes looked and mostly likely were expensive, he wore thick golden rings on each hand and slightly heeled shoes. "Ey you," and he was calling out to him, Alfred stopped in his tracks, looked around and the signaled at himself. "Yes, you" he edged closer as Francis motioned him to, he noticed for a second Ludwig leaned in to whisper something before excusing himself off to the restroom. 

The Frenchman went from passive to angry in one second, he seemed to sniff the air before getting up and walking over to grab him by the shirt. "You smell like my Arthur, why is that?" Alfred took the other's hands in his own and squeezed them painfully hard as he removed them from himself, "Whoa there bud, relax. If I haven't yet had breakfast it's too early to be fighting." Francis winced as he was forced to let go, granted they were about the same height and physique. The American was just slightly more of everything, taller and with a stronger complexion, but it seemed it wasn't only in looks. "No, you will answer me, and you will answer me now." Demanding was all he had left, it just wasn't wise to try anything until Ludwig came back. "I will answer you when I'm done eating, God." Rather when he could think of a valid excuse, now he realized saying he had slept on top of Arthur would probably sound horrible. 

Getting the other in trouble was the last thing he wanted, at least now he understood where the Brit's dislike came from. "Do you know who I am?" Alfred shrugged and continued trying to walk by, "Don't know, don't care." The Frenchman tried to throw a punch in his anger, which the colonist quickly caught and found a way to twist the arm around his back. For a second he heard some fabric rip, whoops. "Alright mister, three strikes, you're out." While he still had the upper hand he dragged Francis to the door, as the man yelled and complained of course, and quite literally kicked him out. Proceeding to slam the door right on his face. "Why you insolent brat!" Was as far as he got, for everything that followed sounded just like very angry French.

"What did you do?" Arthur was halfway down the staircase staring curiously, but with tears in his eyes, which immediately worried Alfred. "Were you crying? What's wrong?" The Brit bit his lip and covered his mouth as he his shoulders began to shake, "It was difficult not to laugh at that." Alfred sighed in relief and laughed too, "That dude's a prick." Arthur wiped his eyes as he was finished laughing, "Yeah, unfortunately I'll have to face him sooner or later." He stared at the door, there was banging on it and plenty of insults from the other side.

"How about later?" Evelynne offered from the door frame to the kitchen with a chuckle, "Breakfast is ready."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That was a long bathroom trip, Luddy. Hope he wasn't wanking in there xd Also I am growing attached to Monaco, I like her random side commentary.


	13. The Cocoa Tree

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alfred is set on Arthur just not returning to Francis at all, so he convinces him to search London for a new keeper.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me start this off by apologizing for updating so late- you see, I had written a whole thing only to decide that I didn't want Arthur to go back home just yet. I can exploit his freedom to the max and then cage him again. Also,
> 
> ***HANDJOB WARNING THIS CHAPTER***
> 
> ☆ Raj Ananda is India  
> \- "Arrey" is an expression, it could mean a lot of things depending on how it's used, so let your mind wander.  
> ☆ The old man is just someone random for now xD I'll decide later if I want to give him an identity.
> 
> Ah yes, Ludwig fell asleep so he was abandoned by Arthur and Alfred.

The yelling outside only continued until the plates were set on the table, breakfast was a lot more comfortable than it had been in previous days. Arthur thought he could easily get used to it, why couldn't he stay here forever, damn it? Him and Alfred took to reading and joking over the reviews on Augusto's list, as Mister Schmidt carefully watched them from the corner of the room. He seemed particularly exasperated as they read over Caterina's review. "Why don't you just make her your wife already, sir?" Arthur teased, to which the German remained silent and flustered over.

"Arthur, are you really going to return to that douche?" The question had come at random while he was in the middle of reading out Andrei's review. "I'm trying to stall, but I know I'll have to eventually." Alfred leaned on him, "Well, have you thought about at least trying to find a new keeper once your annual contract with him is over?" The Brit put the book down on his lap and stared at the wall, "I've considered it but never tried to, to be honest." The colonist sat up, "Well, maybe it's time you do. We should go hunting." 

Arthur looked at him and repeated, "Hunting?" Alfred nodded, "Yeah, Antonio has told me the pleasure gardens and Coffeehouses are gathering spots for powdered wigs. Well, he told me they're his favourite hang out places in London so I'm assuming.. not that I know where they are so you'll have to guide. We can go look at your prospects, maybe that will make you consider your future more." The Brit stared at him blankly for a few seconds before giving in, "Go put on something nice." Alfred pouted, "What for? You'll be parading yourself around, I'm just accompanying to be judgemental." 

"Go."

"Oh, fine."

The colonist had borrowed some of Joao's clothes on condition that Arthur took care and blame for whatever damages occurred. The garden would most likely be empty until midnight so they made a stop by a place called The Cocoa Tree. A private gentleman's clubs with strict guidelines, you HAD to be an alpha male and have a minimum net worth a year, for which reason they had no more than 20 members. Even less were the ones present, about 10 men playing poker and smoking while they conversed. Francis was a permanent member actually, and Alastair was honorary, while he didn't exactly fit the net worth requirement he came and went as he wanted. For every single man here had stopped at least once by his brothel for their own pleasure.

As quickly as he stepped foot inside everyone's eyes were on him, they returned to their activities quickly but it was good enough to have gotten their attention. "I need a drink.." He muttered, "No drinking, you're not good at holding it" Alfred scolded, the Brit rolled his eyes "You're one to talk." The younger man hooked his arm with the other and gently began pulling him to walk around the room, "See anyone that catches your eye yet?" An older man, way old, had sent a smile in Arthur's direction, one he returned but shook his head lightly. "Still looking."

"Mister Kirkland, over here!" A tanned man, that looked just a little older than Arthur himself was waving over from a table. The Brit seemed interested right away and pulled Alfred over, "Sir Ananda, I had no idea you were in London." The man put his hands together and vowed his head in some sort of greeting, Alfred had never seem such a thing before but Arthur had apparently, as he quickly mirrored the action. "I got here just yesterday, I planned on visiting you and Mister Bonnefoy but the rumours said you two weren't sharing a roof for the time being." The Brit chuckled, "Good news sure travel fast, don't they?" 

Alfred felt like an odd third wheel, and not happy about the situation while at it for whatever reason. He pulled away and requested to join the next round at the poker table, for how stuck up the crowd looked they were a lot more relaxed than appearances gave away. Granted, he had never played before in his life, but he remembered a couple friends from his childhood sneaking around to play it while their parents were tending to their responsibilities. They would pretend to study the bible in group and gambled with handmade items. That had to be some sort of sin, but it had also been a long time ago. He forced himself to push it out of his mind and smiled at the group.

"Do make my day, have you left him forever?" The conversation had just begun and it already seemed an opportunity, could it all really be this easy? "That depends," Arthur moved his hand over the table and laid it on top of the other's. "On what?" The Brit laced their fingers together, "On if I can get a more agreeable keeper, you wouldn't know of someone seeking a companion would you?" It had been so long since he had properly flirted it just felt awkward, but it seemed to be working so he made sure to not falter. "There's a part of me that always seeks your company, after all, they say you always remember your first." Ah yes, there was that too, Raj had been one of those he had bedded in between the Ribeiros and Francis. They were both a lot more timid back then, but at the same time it had provided equal comfort, to be almost as inexperienced as each other.

Arthur took a glance around before sneaking his hand under the table, "So what does that part of you say?" He began to rub at the crotch area, almost laughing at his easily it could be felt springing to life, he bit his lip in an attempt to conceal it. "It says maybe we should take this somewhere else." Raj's eyes were so honest to his feelings it was pitiful, lust was all over his gaze. "I only take things further with permanent employers, but you may have something to look forward to." The Brit slided his hand down the other's pants, grateful they weren't as complicated as English breeches. Leaning into the Indian's ear while he wrapped his fingers around his erection, he whispered, "What do you say?" Raj shuddered, trying to contain any noise that could grab attention from others. "W.. what does he pay you?" Arthur was alternating between pumping his hand and rubbing under the head, squeezing gently to build up the pressure. And get things over quickly.

"600 a year." Raj inhaled deeply as he tried to get his words out in one try, "That's pricey... I would have to speak to my father, he controls my money until I am married." In that moment the Brit withdrew his hand, "Let me know what he says then, meet you here in a few days?" The Indian groaned, "Please don't do this to me." Arthur chuckled, "20 pounds then." He didn't think he had ever seen anyone reach for his money this fast, but the amount was given over quickly. So he took another glance around and returned to pumping his hand, at a faster pace than before. Raj's chest was moving in pace as he did his best to control his breathing, then in a second he was done. "A-ah.. arrey..." Arthur kissed his cheek, "Come see me at the Ribeiro's house if you have positive news." 

He made sure to wipe his hand well before walking over to the table Alfred was at, and grabbing at his shoulders. "How's everything going, gentlemen?" Alfred looked at him completely unamused for a moment, but forced a smile, "Totally owning everyone's asses here." The older man from earlier confirmed, "Ah yes, lad is earning himself a small fortune here. But how do you do, Mister Kirkland?" Arthur shrugged, "Not as well as you are, I take it, my Lord?" The man nodded, "One glance at you relieves all the ills that come with age." Arthur smiled awkwardly, "Another round or are you all too scared?" He heard Alfred say, having their prides jabbed at, everyone was quick to throw in money.

Oh dear, this was going to be a long evening.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry the handjob wasn't UsUk, this is going to be a long story so I really don't want to force actions or aptitudes. I'll take my time with development so bear with me here.
> 
> I wanted to mention, currently I'm going through a restructuring process with the future of this story. So if there is anything that I have mentioned in notes but not in the story disregard it, not canon. Particularly Peter's mother- actually specifically that.


	14. Cocoa Tree to Pleasure Gardens

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Introduction filler to a new character you could say, interaction, it's a scene transition chapter, and the title is blatant about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See, I've had this sitting in my notes since 2-3 months back? I'm so sorry about my absence, shit happened to put it simply but I really want to finish this. It's a Christmas miracle, the goal is that there will be another chapter out before the 25th C:

"Has Bonnefoy finally allowed you off your leash, Mister Kirkland?" He had stopped being annoyed at the question after the third person that asked, Arthur only shrugged. "Slipped it, I'm afraid I tire of him." Augusto laughed, "Don't we all? He's a vain fizzle of a man, we've been meaning to mention you're only wasting your precious time with him. But he's like a leech at your side every time." Now there was a surprise, guess Francis didn't have half the friends he thought he did if they all spoke behind his back. Arthur chuckled, "He's a leech that pays up," to that Lovino, Augusto's son spoke up "If he has anything to make up for his annoying self it's his money, damn right." Now Alfred was laughing, "Y'all really hate him, don't you? I thought you were supposed to be his friends."

Augusto rolled his dice, "He's always showing off Mister Kirkland or talking about his thousands a year, while he certainly has luck on one aspect, he's not exactly the richest man in the club. Routine can get boring." The colonist hummed as he nodded, "Oh yeah, I can tell. Put him on his ass yesterday, kind of just getting more glad about it with time." The entire table seemed genuinely interested so Alfred continued, "He just went around demanding crap like we were all his servants, so I kicked him out. His angry French is funny." Lovino laughed, "Must have been a fucking pretty sight." Arthur laughed too, "Oh, it was. Speaking of.. Mister Vargas, I must say you were really generous with the review in your book." Augusto waved his hand around, "No, no, I fell short, it's only what everyone thinks."

The rest of the afternoon was calm and enjoyable, Alfred left the hand with 5 times the money he had started out with. He probably had more than Arthur himself now. Their next and final stop for the day would be pleasure gardens, after dark it was usually at it's splendour. 

"What do you know, they were actually nice people."

"It seems so, yes."

"So.. uh, I saw something so I'm guessing it went well?"

"What do you mean?"

Alfred glared at him for a second before walking over and wrapping an arm around Arthur's shoulders as they continued walking, "Mister 'acting like a whore doesn't go a long way around here' was giving a handjob under the table." The Brit laughed nervously, "Was it too obvious?" Alfred shook his head, "Nah, I think I just kept looking at you, so it was hard not to notice that dude looking like he was about to die. Makes me wonder.." Arthur elbowed him, "Back that carriage, that was a one time thing, he's a good prospect." Alfred wheezed as he was caught off guard. "Ow, hey! I was just saying, I think he came in minutes."

They continued walking in the same position until reaching their destination. It wasn't difficult to find it, laughter and live music echoed, the Brit had often heard a little before midnight fireworks went off too. Alfred was absolutely amazed, "Whoa, this is a straight out party." Arthur smiled, "Welcome to pleasure gardens." When he cared enough to look around in more detail he took notice, Lena and Erzebet were drinking with culls a few feet away from each other. Meaning there was a high possibility of Alastair being around here, great.

He hooked his arm with Alfred's to avoid losing him out of sight, "Where do you think I should start?" The younger man squinted as he looked around, "This is a rich people buffet.. maybe you could even get yourself a nice lady." Arthur tapped his cheek, "Could be a refreshing change now that you mention it." Suddenly someone blocked their path, not exactly what he had been hoping for, he almost wished it had been his brother instead. The man was ash blonde and a few centimeters taller than Alfred, he was staring at both at them with a smile that just seemed fake. "It gives me the joy to see you here." Arthur was taken aback, "Mister Bragisnky." He could feel Alfred getting tense as they held arms, but he wasn't about to ask. "Mister Kirkland.. and servant?" 

Alfred didn't give him the chance to try to reply, "Just a companion,". Ivan laughed, "Oh, so in England whores can have whores, funny." The colonist faked a laugh but he was clearly ticked off, "You watch your mouth with the gentleman, buddy." Ivan raised an eyebrow, "Gentleman?" Arthur kept staring between the two, "How is your husband, Mister Bragisnky? You both are here trying to pick up his mood, right? A miscarriage must be a terrible thing." The russian's smug face dropped, "He chose to stay home." Arthur tilted his head, "Oh and you decided to come anyway, husband of the year I'm sure." He felt Ivan glare as they decided to walk past and not allow him to retort.

Alfred was laughing as soon as they were within a reasonable distance, "Dude, ouch, that was cold." Now the Brit was glaring, "It wasn't necessarily on purpose. What was that back there?" He saw Alfred shrug, "I just thought he looked like an ass, and respect is earned not given."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm still working my way around connections, but this is supposed to be important somehow.


End file.
